


Partners

by eadunne2



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Fights, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Possible allusion to self harm, Sappy, Sappy Ending, Self-Esteem Issues, Swearing, blowjob, bucky knits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 17:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5383529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eadunne2/pseuds/eadunne2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve’s waiting up for him. He knows what he’s gotta say. Doesn’t make it any fucking easier. Even worse that he hadn’t planned how to greet him, so Buck walks through the door and into Steve’s arms. </p><p>Steve is selfish and weak, and buries his nose in Bucky’s neck. He smells like hospital, antiseptic and mint, but beneath that is warmth and cotton and whatever the fuck cologne he’s been using.<br/>(Should be illegal, though Steve remembers feeling this way about his aftershave before the war, too…)</p><p>“I think you should request a new partner.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Partners

Steve’s waiting up for him. He knows what he’s gotta say. Doesn’t make it any fucking easier. Even worse that he hadn’t planned how to greet him, so Buck walks through the door and into Steve’s arms.

Steve is selfish and weak, and buries his nose in Bucky’s neck. He smells like hospital, antiseptic and mint, but beneath that is warmth and cotton and whatever the fuck cologne he’s been using. 

(Should be illegal, though Steve remembers feeling this way about his aftershave before the war, too…)

“I think you should request a new partner.” 

There’s a pause, frozen time, then Bucky spits out, “Fuck you,” and pushes Steve so hard he stumbles back a pace.

“I...what?”

“Fuck. You. You piece of shit,” he articulates, shoving Steve again.

“Buck, cut it out. I’m being serious.” 

No words this time, just a growl as Bucky lunges at him, tackling him by the waist. Bucky’s awfully light on his feet for a guy who spent the past two weeks in a coma. Steve’s back slams into the arm of the couch and they pitch backwards onto it, bouncing once before rolling off onto the floor.

“The mighty Steve Rogers. He giveth,” -right hook to Steve’s jaw- “and he taketh away.” 

There’s such disdain, such loathing in Bucky’s voice that it leaves Steve breathless, but he shoves hard enough to free his body, though something about the lightness makes him ache, and scrambles to his feet. “Shit Buck, calm down!”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he roars, flipping upright to grab Steve by the shirt front, steadying to sock him in the gut.

It hurts like a bitch and Steve makes an embarrassing noise before stepping back and kicking Bucky square in the chest hard enough that he flies backwards. “Ok, what the fuck is your problem?” he snarls.

The silence is too loud around their heavy breaths in their apartment. It’s less empty since Buck moved in. There’s a knit blanket on the couch that he made, _made_ , with his own two hands, though there was a death threat issued if Steve ever mentioned that particular hobby to anyone. Steve actually got around to hanging a few of his paintings after weeks of Bucky harassing him, and the gaming system is still out on the floor in front of the TV, twin controllers abandoned in haste weeks ago when they got the call. Steve never put it away. He wonders briefly what that means. 

“My problem?” Bucky whispers. “I’m not the one-” His voice cracks then, and to Steve’s absolute shock, those granite eyes shimmer behind wetness. “-The one who-” His chin quivers.

It’s more emotion than Steve has seen from him in a century. 

_The old Bucky Barnes never cried either, and at least not when anyone could see. He cried at Sarah’s funeral, Steve remembers that, how comforting it had been to cling to someone else weeping at the loss of a mother, but other than that…_

_The only exception was when Steve was sick. Bucky’d wait until Steve’s eyes had been closed a long while, until he had stopped coughing long enough to drift between waking and sleep, until it was pitch black in their room, the moon bathing them gently as if to say, “I wish I could give you more.” He’d wait until he was hidden, and he’d touch Steve’s face sweetly, reverently, and slip to the floor where the shaking of his body wouldn’t disturb. Once, Steve had put a hand on his neck, cradling messy dark hair in shaky fingers. Bucky had startled, almost bolted, but Steve remembers pulling him down, back into bed, wrapping thin arms around him. Bucky had said, “You gotta stay, Stevie, ok? Can’t leave me alone.”_

“You know what? Fuck it.” He turns away, gathering the hair that had fallen in their fight back up into a messy knot. 

Steve’s so confused. It’s not like he _wants_ a different partner, surely Bucky must know that. “It’s for the best.” 

“Course it is.” What is that in his voice? And why does it make Steve want to die? Buck grabs his backpack off the floor and walks down the hall, assassin silent, not the soft padding footsteps he’d given the both of them when he moved in, an indicator of his comfort in their home. 

Something tickles Steve’s chin and he wipes at it. Blood. Bucky split his lip. It barely hurts compared to his chest. That gut punch had been something else, he guesses. 

“Maybe Maria,” he calls, folding the blanket over the back of the couch. “She’s much more consistent. Or Kate? She’s real dependable, you know?” 

Nothing from the hall. He waits another minute before following after, stepping into the room without knocking. Other than swiping a sleeve across his eyes, Buck doesn’t acknowledge him. 

It’s incredible how quiet he can be. In two minutes he’s packed his bag with most of the clothing from the closet, and cleared out the dresser. Silently. “What are you doing?” Steve whispers. It’s freezing in here.

“If you don’t want me -”

“Buck, no, you gotta understand-”

“I do. It’s fine. It makes sense. You’re Captain fuckin’ America. Can’t have a liability on your hands. I’m a nightmare for PR, the PTSD makes me a pretty dangerous partner really, so you’re right, it’s for the best.”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

Bucky turns to him sharply. “I’m pretty sure we're both talking about you dumping me. As a partner,” he adds, flushing, and zips his bag. 

“No…” Steve breathes. “No! That’s not-”

“Then WHAT?” Bucky bellows.

Ridiculous. “I mean you gotta get some sense of self-preservation if you’re going to-”

“Shut the fuck up you don’t know shit about self-”

“More than you, with your fucking trust issues-”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me about trust issues Steve Rogers, so help me god I’ll-”

“How many more bad decisions-”

“HYDRA wasn’t a fucking decision you appalling sack of shit-”

“I’m not talking about HYDRA, asshole-”

“Then what the fuck are you-”

“ Me!" He shouts into the stillness. "I’m talking about me! I mean, how many times are you going to let me get you killed!” A sob rises in Steve’s throat, cramping his voice, but Bucky’s just staring, speechless for once, so he continues. “Dunno about you, but I remember everything. I remember pulling you off that gurney, I remember you falling from that train, I remember your eyes iced over...You’re,” -dammit, breathe Steve- “Better off-”

Bucky’s arm shoots out and Steve flinches, but it just covers his mouth. “If you say ‘better off without me,’ I swear on all that is holy I will kick your ass so hard you’ll wake up in a whole 'nother century.”

Steve smiles ruefully. 

“Is that what this is about? Me getting my ass blown up?”

“I got your ass blown up Buck. If I’d been-”

“Shut up.”

“But-”

“Steve.” He sounds so exasperated. It’s funny. He’s been using that tone of voice on Steve for over a hundred years.

“Bucky, you gotta-”

Bucky surges forward, hand on the back of Steve’s neck and kisses him. Kisses him like they fought before, like he’s got something to prove, but that’s how Steve has always felt, so they’re evenly matched. He grabs Bucky by the hips and tugs him in, ignoring the flump of the backpack as it falls next to their feet. 

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Bucky murmurs against his lips. 

“Hey-”

Strong fingers tangle in Steve’s hair and yank backwards exposing his neck, and Bucky bites at the tendon below his ear, sucking a mark and Steve cries out as his knees buckle. “I can’t lose you again,” he murmurs. “Not again, I can’t, I’ll-”

“Steven Grant Rogers, don’t you dare,” Bucky whispers fiercely. “When I’m gone it’ll be no one’s fault, and if I go first you will damn well stick around and do what you were put on this earth to do.” He smirks. “Never thought I’d have to tell you of all people to keep fighting.”

Steve doesn’t laugh. It’s not a laughing matter. He didn’t laugh a single time sitting by Bucky’s bedside the past two weeks, watching his chest rise and fall, listening for the steady beeping of the monitors even in fitful bouts of sleep. He’d known the possibility of explosives, he let Buck go anyway, heard Tony warn him, didn’t get there fast enough…

“Carried you out,” he says, finally, and Bucky pulls back to look at his face. Steve wishes he were invisible. 

“I carried you out of the Potomac. I know the feeling.”

It’s not the words. They’re nice and all, useful too, a good comparison to help Steve put the whole thing in perspective. What really gets him though, is the haunted look in Bucky’s eyes, the weariness, and it’s so fucking familiar. They both feel inadequate. They’re both sure they won’t be enough. 

“Buck…” Steve whispers, throat catching, and presses their lips together again. Bucky kisses back, strong and sure and increasingly passionate until he rocks forward and Steve can feel how hard he is against his thigh. Turned on and guilty is a weird feeling, but he doesn't want to stop. “I’m sorry. I’m just so scared...What if…”

“Shh, Stevie.” He whispers, sliding to his knees. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.” 

He tugs at Steve’s sweats until they’re pooled around his ankles. “Buck, is this...what you want?” 

“More than anything,” Bucky murmurs into the crease of Steve’s thigh. “You?”

“God, so much. For so long.”

He feels Bucky grin into his skin before he sees it, and then his boxers are gone. “Tell me.”

“Since we were kids, Buck.” He gasps and steps a little wider to keep from falling as Bucky brushes his lips over Steve’s cock, up one side and down the other. 

“More.” He does it again, mouth open a little further and Steve can see where his cock is shiny with spit.

“When you came home from work - ah - fuck!” Bucky slides his mouth over the head of Steve’s cock then back off.

“Liked when I took my shirt off, huh?” he supplies and Steve nods. 

“Still do.”

Surprised, Bucky sits back on his heels, hand taking over for his mouth on Steve’s cock, achingly slowly. “But my-” He clenches his metal fist, and Steve cups a hand to his face. Closing his eyes, Bucky leans into it for a moment, listening as Steve murmurs, “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful Buck. Why’dya think I always disappear when you come out of the shower?”

Bucky laughs and his eyes sparkle when he opens them, but there’s a vulnerability that wasn’t present before as he peels his shirt up and off and lets it fall behind him. He’s so gorgeous Steve whimpers a little in his throat without meaning to, and it turns into a full on shout when Buck licks around his cock then swallows him down. 

“Fuck!”

Buck goes at it with a kind of desperation then, working Steve over mercilessly. He runs his flesh hand up and down Steve’s thigh, scratching every so often. He doesn’t need to breathe, apparently, and between the ceaseless pressure and adrenaline, Steve finds himself shaking. 

“Buck, wait,” he pants, and Bucky pulls off with a pop. His mouth is blood red and spit-slick and he looks fucking delicious, folded there on the floor, but Steve needs his hands on him, needs the reassurance that he's there, whole, alive, so he tugs him to his feet. 

“Pants off.”

“Bossy,” Bucky teases, hands to his hips, and Steve growls, picks him up by the thighs and tosses him backwards on the bed, ripping his jeans down the second his body settles. Steve sees wide eyes up close as he kisses him, rolling their bodies together, and Bucky, thankfully, has lost his cool too, writing beneath Steve’s body with a whine. 

“You like that?” Steve mutters between them as he slides his hips up Bucky’s body and back down. 

“Yes,” he gasps.

“Want my mouth on you, Bucky boy?”

“Please oh god please-”

Steve is already sliding him, velvet and hot, down his throat, groaning at the feel on his tongue. Bucky’s hand shoots down and twines into his hair, hard, and Steve jerks his hips reflexively. “God, Steve. Wanted that pretty mouth on me for so long.” 

“Shut up,” Steve whispers as he pulls off for only a second.

“Won’t. Remember at our old apartment-ah! You kept leaving the top buttons of your shirt open, oh fuck, do that again,” he yelps as Steve wriggles his tongue up the underside of Bucky’s cock. 

“I was a skinny little nobody,” Steve protests, stroking Bucky with a firm thumb massaging under the head. 

Bucky tightens his hand in Steve’s hair and pulls him up so they’re eye to eye. “You were fucking perfect, then and now. And you were-” Nerves choke him off, but he swallows through them, “You’re my everything, Stevie. Always have been. Without you…” 

He doesn’t get any further, because Steve knows, so he kisses him. Takes them in hand, slicking spit and precome around them. He kisses Bucky like he’s making up for lost time, licking into his mouth roughly, sinking as deeply as he can over his tongue, wet and hot and he feels that lick of lightening up his spine. He tries to warn Bucky, but the brunette chases his mouth, so he just whines into Buck’s lips and Bucky nods, frenetic. Steve feels a shudder, and warmth over his hand a split second before his own release hits, and Bucky grabs him by the neck, pressing their foreheads together with a hiss.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpers, small and overwhelmed as Steve releases them, and it makes Steve lie back and pull Buck onto his chest. When they’ve won the fight to get their breath back, “Don’t do that again.”

“What?” That wasn't what he was hoping to hear.

“Try and push me away." Oh. "I’m always gonna come back for you, and you better do the same. Promise?” The nerves in his voice let Steve know just how badly he fucked up. “You done tryna get rid of me?” 

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Was tryna protect you, Buck. I’m compromised, when it comes to you.”

“I don’t care. I want you.”

“I want you too, babe.”

“Babe?” There’s a smile in his voice.

“What? I can’t call you babe?”

“Sure you can, doll,” he says, all Bucky Barnes sex and swagger and Steve blushes from his cheeks to his ribs. “Oh man. I’m gonna enjoy that one.”

“Asshole,” Steve mutters, and pulls Bucky down so he can bury his hot face into dark hair. 

A month later, Steve comes home with the SHIELD document that officially appoints he and Bucky as partners. A week after that, Bucky comes home with two little scraps of metal. They’re nothing really. Just his own symbol of partnership.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me a seasless.tumblr.com


End file.
